


Flight Risk

by SylvanWitch



Series: Risky Business [3]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, First Time, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanWitch/pseuds/SylvanWitch
Summary: Higgins' version of a shovel talk is surprisingly free of threats of actual bodily harm, but it does the job of motivating Magnum to tell Gordon how he really feels.
Relationships: Gordon Katsumoto/Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV
Series: Risky Business [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603222
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	Flight Risk

“So, things between you and Gordon are getting pretty serious,” Higgins said in that way she had of asserting a question as fact rather than seeming not to have all the intel.

They were having lunch out at the pavilion, the waves a gentle background for their conversation, which until now had been desultory and casual.

Higgins’ question sent an uneasy ripple through Magnum’s guts, and he abandoned the last of his barbecued shrimp in favor of taking a sip of coconut water and trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t lead to more conversation on the subject of his relationship with Gordon.

“Pretty serious, yeah,” Magnum settled on at last, in his breezy, nothing-to-see-here voice that worked exactly no magic on Higgins, whose eyes narrowed as she came in for the kill.

“Are you sleeping with him?” 

Magnum choked on his water and spent the next minutes trying to clear his lungs.

When he’d gotten his breathing back under control and dried his eyes with a napkin, he saw that Higgins had on her self-satisfied look, the one that said _I thought so_ better than the actual words might.

“Jealous?” Magnum asked with a wicked smile, hoping to distract her.

She gave a surprisingly inelegant snort. “Nice try, Magnum. Answer the question.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he answered primly, folding his damp napkin meticulously, focusing on squaring the corners.

Higgins reached across and put her hand on his to still them. This made him look up. She was wearing an expression he hadn’t seen before, serious but not in the there’s-a-dead-guy-in-the-yard sort of way.

“What’s up?” he asked softly, giving her his full attention.

“Leaving aside the professional ramifications of damaging your relationship with Detective Katsumoto,” Higgins began. 

Magnum opened his mouth to protest—things between him and Gordon on the job front had been great lately, thanks in large part to Magnum taking care not to lie to him, break into active crime scenes, or hide that there had been a crime until it was convenient to tell him.

Higgins forestalled him with a gesture.

“Gordon is a good man who, I believe, takes your relationship very seriously. He’s not the sort to give his heart lightly, and if you continue down this road, you have to be sure, Magnum. You have to know what you want. Otherwise, it’s not fair to him.”

She’d said all this with her hand over his two, as if she feared that he was a flight risk. Now, he pulled his hands away, but only so that he could work on peeling the label from the hot sauce bottle.

It wasn’t like Magnum hadn’t thought these things himself. For all his Peter Pan exterior, he was actually a pretty thoughtful guy, and it hurt a little that his partner, who he’d thought knew him better than that, might believe he was capable of being insensitive to Gordon’s feelings.

Still, Magnum could admit—to himself, he sure as hell wasn’t giving Higgins more ammunition—that his devil-may-care persona might give people, even people he cared about, the wrong impression.

He hoped that Gordon knew how he felt and that his feelings were genuine. For all that even thinking about saying the words made his stomach flip wildly, Magnum did, in fact, love Gordon.

An oily cold spread through his belly, and he felt his gorge rise. He had to swallow hard to get the lump of panic out of his throat. He’d loved someone once before and look how that had turned out. She’d been his colleague, too, sharing a mission with him—or so he’d believed.

His judgment then had been tragically ill-informed, and as much as he reminded himself that Gordon was nothing like Hannah, his gut-level reaction to the idea of emotional intimacy was hard to ignore.

Realizing his partner had been sitting across from him in watchful silence for too long, Magnum nodded jerkily and tried a smile, which felt stiff and lop-sided. He couldn’t look at Higgins; he feared he’d see pity in her eyes.

“Magnum,” Higgins said, and though there was kindness in her voice, there was nothing of pity. She tapped his hand to make him look up, and when he did, he saw only understanding in her face.

“He’s not her,” she said, moving her hand away. She had the scantest of sad smiles at the corner of her lips. “And you’re not the man you were then either. You obviously care deeply for Gordon. You need to tell him.”

Magnum nodded again to acknowledge that he’d heard her. And he had. He knew she was right, that Gordon deserved to know.

“Alright,” he said after a moment, but his voice was rough and sounded strange in his ears. He cleared his throat and tried again. 

“I’ll tell him tonight. He’s coming over for dinner.”

“Well, then, I shall make myself scarce. And,” she added with a wider smile as she stood up and began gathering the remnants of their lunch, “I’ll see that the lads are locked up, as well, in case you’d like the beach to yourselves for the night.”

He looked up, startled, to see her grinning mischievously at him, which is when it dawned on him that he hadn’t disabled the beach security cameras before his and Gordon’s first date three months ago.

“Higgins,” he began, laying the shock on thick, “Have you been spying on us?”

Higgins shot him a mock-innocent look. “Who, me? Never,” but her ringing laugh betrayed the truth of it, and he felt his face heat up when he remembered what they’d gotten up to on that blanket.

Thinking of Gordon’s mouth and hands, his weight holding Magnum down, only increased that heat, until he thought he might burst into flames.

He busied himself with helping Higgins clean up and then made an excuse about having work to do and hurried toward the guest house.

“Coward,” she called after him. Her laughter followed him halfway across the lawn.

*****

It wasn’t like they always ended up in bed together. Sometimes, they went out to eat or caught a movie or had a daytime date when Gordon was free—paddle-boarding, hiking, easy days at the beach, evenings at La Mariana with the gang. 

Once, they’d gone to the shooting range together, but that had gotten competitive in a hurry, and by mutual but unspoken agreement, they hadn’t tried that again.

And even when they stayed in to watch Netflix and share a pizza, they didn’t always get naked.

Well, there’d been at least a couple of times when they hadn’t.

Okay, so it’s true: Magnum was up for it pretty much anytime, and Gordon seemed just as hungry for touch. They were grown-ass men having a grown-up relationship. 

They could boink whenever they wanted to.

But there were some things they had yet to share in the bedroom (or, once, on a sun-warmed rock in a remote corner of a much-neglected state wildlife area; and another time on a deserted beach they’d paddled to; and then there was the bathroom at La Mariana, but Magnum would die before he’d let Rick find out about that).

It happened that one of those things was, um, The Deed itself.

Oh, they’d talked about it in oblique terms—going slow, not needing to rush things; making sure they were ready, really ready, for the next step; finding alternate means of giving each other pleasure—hands and mouths and friction and, on one memorable occasion, accessories.

But Gordon hadn’t asked, and Magnum didn’t want to push. He figured they had time to get down to it, and if Gordon wanted to take it at his own pace, Magnum was fine with that.

Really, they had a good time whenever they were together, clothed or not. If sometimes Magnum fantasized about Gordon’s broad shoulders above him, his solid weight holding him down, his hips working, ass flexing as he came inside of Magnum, well, that only meant that Magnum had a healthy libido and an aesthetic appreciation for his boyfriend’s body.

It didn’t mean he was panting for it.

Except that at the moment, Magnum was gasping for breath, naked and spread out beneath Gordon, who had slotted his cock into the space between Magnum’s raised thigh and his taut abdomen. Every time Gordon thrust, he dragged his belly across Magnum’s own cock, which was hard and aching.

Things were getting a little desperate.

Magnum said, “Please,” as he sometimes did, and Gordon, as he always did, stilled and asked, “What do you want?”

“You. Inside. Now.” Magnum would spare time later being embarrassed about his Tarzan-inspired dialogue. Right now, he wanted Gordon—as hard and deep and fast as he could get him.

Instead of responding enthusiastically to Magnum’s demand, Gordon drew away, kneeling between Magnum’s legs to put some distance between them.

He felt the loss of Gordon’s heat and weight, resisting the urge to shiver. He felt vulnerable and exposed, spread out like this for Gordon.

For his part, Gordon looked wrecked—flushed, sweaty, hair a mess and pupils blown, lips a red ruin. His cock glistened with pre-come, jutting hard from between his legs.

His body wasn’t reluctant, whatever his heart and head were telling him.

Magnum reached out to drag his fingers down Gordon’s chest, and Gordon released a shuddering breath before capturing his hand and saying, “Stop.”

When Gordon let him go, Magnum put his hands up in a universal gesture: _Don’t shoot, I’m totally naked here._

Gordon locked eyes with him, and Magnum felt the look to the soles of his feet. His stomach flipped, cold pooling in his gut; Higgins’ words from earlier came back to him: “You need to tell him.”

He took another breath, this one no steadier than the last, and said, “I love you.”

It was the first time either of them had used the L word, and Magnum, who was watching Gordon’s face with attention fueled by anxiety, saw a shadow cross it, there and then gone. 

“Be sure,” Gordon said, reaching out to wrap one broad, hot hand around Magnum’s ankle.

“Sure I love you?” Magnum asked, slow to track, distracted by how big Gordon’s hand felt, how much he wanted Gordon all over him, inside of him.

“Sure you can handle this,” Gordon clarified, running his other hand up Magnum’s calf.

Magnum shivered, swallowed a moan, closed his eyes against the sharp zing of desire that arrowed to his already aching cock.

“It’s for keeps with me,” Gordon said.

“I know,” Magnum answered, voice hoarse. He tried again, “I know,” and it came out like a promise. “Please,” he said, spreading his thighs wider in clear invitation.

Still, Gordon hesitated, eyes hot and dark, fixed on Magnum’s face.

Magnum said softly, smile on his face, “You going to make me beg for it?”

“You’re pretty when you beg,” Gordon deadpanned, and Magnum felt a bolt of lightning go through him.

“Please,” he said again, fluttering his lashes.

Gordon slapped his ankle gently. “Tease,” and reached for the lube on the bedside table.

“It’s not teasing if I intend to follow through,” Magnum noted, sounding a little strangled, like he couldn’t quite get enough air.

“Lift,” Gordon said, slotting a pillow under Magnum’s hips. Then he sat on his heels, lube in one hand, the other hooked under Magnum’s bent knee, just looking.

The breathlessness increased, a flutter under his breastbone, and Magnum closed his eyes to hide from the raw look on Gordon’s face.

Then a slick, wide fingertip circled his hole, punching a whine out of him. 

“Oh,” he said, having forgotten what that felt like.

It had been a long time since he’d gotten naked with another guy. Mostly, it had been quick and dirty hand-jobs or blowjobs standing up behind whatever cover they could find. Once, on leave in Sydney, it had been a no-tell motel, ceiling fan moving muggy air around, sheets sticky under his back, the guy perfunctory, pushing in.

Gordon took his time, talking Magnum through it, saying, “God, look at you, so pretty like this,” and “That’s it, fuck my fingers,” and “You’re so tight,” and “God, I want to fuck you.”

“What are you waiting for?” Magnum asked, though the question was broken up over several breaths.

Gordon’s fingers felt huge inside of him, the brush of his knuckles against his muscles, the way he curled his middle finger just right to touch the sweet spot and light Magnum on fire.

He couldn’t take any more. “Please,” said the guy who’d never broken all those months in captivity. “Gordon, please, please God, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

In the absence of Gordon’s fingers, he felt empty, but he didn’t have time to complain about it because Gordon’s hands were pushing his knees toward his chest and his weight was settling between Magnum’s legs and a blunt, impossibly huge object was pushing inexorably into him.

“Breathe, Thomas,” Gordon said, suspended there with just the head of his cock inside him.

Magnum did as he was told, trying to relax and let Gordon in. He wanted this—God, did he want it—but it felt impossible.

Then Gordon was pushing forward, saying, “You feel so good, babe,” and “God, Thomas, I can’t—” and “Fuck, I love you,” as he bottomed out, pausing again with his head down, panting against the strain of not moving.

“I’m okay—I’m okay,” Magnum said, reaching up to touch Gordon’s hair and his lips and to brush his jaw. “You can move, Gordon. Please.”

“So pretty when you beg,” Gordon growled, pulling back and then pushing in again, harder, adding some thrust.

Magnum grunted and braced his hands against the headboard, said, “Yeah, that’s it, c’mon,” and Gordon twisted his hips, dragging his cock over the sweet spot until Magnum was choking on a sob of pleasure, pushing back down onto Gordon’s cock, chasing the feeling.

One of Gordon’s hands clamped onto his hip, stilling him, and he drove in harder, once, twice, chanting Magnum’s name and love words, saying, “Thomas, Thomas, come for me.”

Liquid heat spilled through him, pressure building at his core.

“Touch me, please, I need—” he said, and Gordon wrapped his hand around Thomas’ cock, jacking him, and Thomas came like a tidal wave, heat rushing through him, spilling out of him with words he’d already gotten used to saying.

He’d closed his eyes as his orgasm broke over him, and now Gordon said, “Look at me, Thomas,” and Thomas did, seeing love and wonder on Gordon’s face as his pace stuttered and he shoved in hard and stilled, teeth clenched around a shout, Thomas’ name broken into syllables as he finished.

Gordon let his weight down, pressing Magnum to the bed, panting wet kisses into his open mouth until he slid out, and they both groaned, and then Gordon pushed himself over to lie beside Magnum, still tangled with him at wrist and ankle.

The air was thick with sweat and spend, loud with their labored breathing.

When he could speak without embarrassing himself, Magnum said, “Wow.”

“You alright?” Gordon asked a moment later.

“Wow,” Magnum said again, and Gordon laughed.

“Yeah, I got that. But seriously, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

For this, Magnum found the effort to raise his head and look at Gordon, who was looking right back.

“I’m…” and then he paused to really take inventory, deciding that he was going to be pleasantly sore tomorrow, but there was no real harm done, as long as he could avoid Higgins; she was just the type to notice if his gait was slightly off, and her smirk would be visible on satellite images if she did.

“Great,” he purred then, stretching and wiggling a little to emphasize just how awesome he was.

Another laugh, low and easy. He could get used to hearing that beside him in bed every day.

He ruthlessly quashed the frisson of unease trying to worm its icy way up his neck at the thought of forever and rolled onto his side so he could put a hand on Gordon’s chest and kiss him just to emphasize how great he felt.

“Shower?” he asked when he finally let Gordon come up for air.

“Nap,” Gordon countered.

“I like the way you think,” Magnum agreed.

Gordon raised his arm in clear invitation, and after a second’s hesitation, Magnum, who had never been much of a cuddler, thought _What the hell?_

As Gordon pulled him close, Magnum laid his cheek on Gordon’s chest and listened, hearing his lover’s heart beating steady and sure, a lulling rhythm that eased the last of his fears and let him close his eyes to rest.


End file.
